


Crash and Burn

by loveswriting25



Series: Diabetic Stiles [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Diabetes, Hurt Stiles, Medical Procedures, Scott McCall & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Video & Computer Games, diabetic!Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-27
Updated: 2017-06-27
Packaged: 2018-11-19 22:41:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11323203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveswriting25/pseuds/loveswriting25
Summary: Scott and Stiles are hanging out playing video games when Stiles's sugar gets too low.





	Crash and Burn

**Author's Note:**

> So a lot of this information I already knew because one of my best friends is diabetic and so is my cousin, but I did do some research. Let me know what you guys think!

"Damn it Scott! I know you freaking saw that guy! Why didn't you shoot him!?" Stiles yelled, ready to throw his controller at his laughing friend after Stiles's player was shot from behind.

They were leaning back in bean bags in Scott's finished basement, where his dad's old man cave was, which they turned into their man cave promptly after he left. They had been playing COD for almost three hours, but what could you expect two teenage boys to do during a three-day weekend? Especially when there was no supernatural chaos happening at the blessed moment. 

Stiles reached over and grabbed his can of Pepsi between their been bags and slurped it through the straw. He was feeling kind of nauseous and really hot, but he quickly decided to ignore it when his player reloaded to the check point. 

"Hurry up, I found some guys up ahead who need their asses kicked", Scott said.

"Around the corner over there?"

"Yeah, go inside that building right there, and I will attack from over here", Scott ordered, and Stiles obeyed, knowing if they ever wanted to win he needed to listen to Scott.

"Alright I'm in position", Stiles said aiming to blow a guys head off.

"Ready.. Go!" Scott yelled opening fire. 

Stiles fired a couple times shooting some guys, but then he started feeling light headed, and his eyes were kind of droopy, and blurry. He suddenly became even hotter. He tried to tell Scott but he was suddenly to tired to even move. His hands fell to rest on his thighs, his finger loosening their clutch on the controller

"Stiles! What are you doing? I need help over here!" Scott said not looking over. "Stiles! What are you waiting f-" But then he glanced over and saw Stiles, and immediately paused the game and dropped his controller. "Hey Stiles. Buddy? Hey what's going on?"

He was becoming kind of pale and his legs went slack while his head lolled and eye lashes fluttered. Sweat was running down the side of his face and made his hair stick to his forehead. He was about to pass out. And maybe something worse after that.

"Stiles, can you here me? Where's your bag? Where's your supplies at?" He asked shaking Stiles's shoulder, and pushing his sweaty hair back with his other hand. 

Stiles tried to focus on Scott but his vision was blurry, and his mouth was too dry. This was bad. Scott darted across the room to where Stiles's over night bag was at and begin to search through it, throwing clothes and other things out. He found the small black diabetes supply bag at the bottom and rushed back to Stiles. 

He unzipped it and removed the little bag of test strips and inserted them into the glucose meter. He then took out the little sterile wipes and reached over to wipe Stiles finger, who was now completely collapsed back, legs sprawled and limp, staring at the ceiling with glazed unfocused eyes. Scott took the lancing tool out of the bag and pricked the tip of Stiles's finger, where it was sterile, and squeezed it until a drop of blood came out. With fumbling, shaky hand he squeezed the blood onto the testing strip, and waited for the meter to read it. 

"You're okay, I got you. You're gonna be fine", Scott said squeezing Stiles's hand and looking into his droopy, unfocused eyes. Stiles kept swallowing, but there was nothing to swallow, and his throat and mouth were really dry. 

"Shit. Uh. Okay", Scott said as he read the meter that said 22 when it was supposed to be 90-150. If he didn't hurry Stiles was going to start seizing. He grabbed the glucagon kit out of the bag and uncapped the syringe and injected the water in it into the small vial of powder then shook it. He glanced over at Stiles to see he was completely passed out now. Nearing panic he drew out the now liquid glucagon using the syringe and inserted it into Stiles's arm. He let out a sigh after the sugar had entered his body and gently moved him off the bean bag and onto his side. 

He began to soothingly rub Stiles's back and felt his warm forehead. He dashed to the bathroom to get a cold washcloth, then carefully wiped the sweat off of his face. He settled down next to him gently rubbing his back when he began to vomit. He heaved up bile for two minutes before settling back down. Scott expected him to wake up and become aware after that, and began to get worried again when he didn't. He decided to call the sheriff, who was on duty tonight.

The sheriff was on speeding duty off the highway when he saw his phone light up on the dashboard and read Scott's name and quickly answered it. "Scott?"

"Sheriff Stiles's sugar crashed and I had to use the glucagon. He puked for a little less than two minutes but he still hasn't woken up." The sheriff shot up at this news, and pulled the car into drive.

"How long has he been out?"

"About eleven minutes."  
"Okay, if he doesn't wake up after four more, call an ambulance. I'm on my way, about eight but I can make it in five." After that he hung up and stepped on the gas. 

Scott stood up and began to pace back and forth looking down at Stiles who wasn't moving. He laid a towel down over the puke and moved Stiles away from it, and he finally began to stir. 

He blinked his bleary eyes open rolling onto his back and tried to swallow again. Scott ran and got a bottle of water out of the fridge, then lifted him onto his lap and held him up to drink. 

"Take it easy, I got ya buddy", Scott said rubbing his shoulder. He sat the water down after a few swallows.

"Scotty. What happn'd?" He asked rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand.  
"Your sugar crashed and I had to use the glucagon. Your dad is on his way. Just relax for a minute", Scott answered laying Stiles back down on the carpet and reaching for the kit and taking out the bottle of glucose tablets. "Here it's been fifteen minutes you need some more sugar. You think you can eat these?" Scott asked holding them up. Stiles hesitantly shook his head no. "Okay that's fine. Here you have some icing squeezes in here. Does that sound good?" Scott questioned. Stiles shook his head yes, and Scott helped him sit up and lean against the bean bag then uncapped the tube of icing. He held it up to Stiles's mouth and helped him slowly squeeze some into his mouth. 

"Stiles! Scott!" A voice yelled upstairs.

"Down here!" Scott yelled back, then the sheriff raced down the stairs. 

"Oh thank God!" He sighed kneeling down next to Stiles, who was slowly squeezing the icing into his mouth. "How do you feel son?" He asked pushing his sticky bangs back to their spike position.

"I'm fine. Can we finish the game now?" Stiles asked like he was a kid again, right after being diagnosed. He handed the almost empty icing tube to his dad.

Scott sighed, "Stiles you were unconscious for like fifteen minutes. I think you should go home." 

"I agree", the sheriff said reaching for the kit. "I'm going to take you home. Parrish can cover for me for the night." He attached a new test strip and Stiles held up his finger to be pricked. "Okay your at 78. Gettin there. Do you think you can stand?" Stiles nodded his head and held his arms up to be pulled up. The sheriff and Scott each grabbed an arm and lifted him to his feet. Scott slung his arm over his shoulder and squeezed an arm around his waste. The sheriff gathered up the supplies and stuff from the kit. 

"Sorry about the puke", Stiles mumbled embarrassed. 

"Your fine Stiles don't worry about it", Scott said patting his side. 

"Alright boys let's head on up", the sheriff said after slipping the diabetes bag inside the duffle bag and tossing the clothes back in then hoisting it over his shoulder.

They began to slowly trek upstairs and half way Stiles grew weak and his knees buckled. "Okayyyy", Scott said using his werewolf strength to keep them from tumbling down the stairs. "You alright buddy?"

"Yeah I'm just tired", Stiles mumbled.

"Yeah your body's probably exhausted after that", the sheriff said keeping a hand on Stiles's back to help.

They eventually made it to the car, Scott carefully slipping Stiles into the passenger seat and helping him buckle. The sheriff hugged Scott and told him thanks. Stiles was already asleep when the sheriff slid into the driver's seat. 

When they got back the sheriff helped Stiles eat some gummies then get into bed and checked his sugar to see it read 144. He sighed and turned the light off, but left the door open, just incase.

**Author's Note:**

> I had to use a glucagon kit on my friend while we were at the movies once because she was too out of it to eat something and it was absolutely terrifying! She also had a seizure once in her sleep when I spent the night and that is something that is not fun to wake up to. Diabetes is a serious medical condition, and I'm not trying to romanticize it in any way. Feel free to leave comments and kudos!


End file.
